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querida/picaro



I’ve been running down a crooked trail all my life; a road
that goes nowhere except to death’s door. occasionally,
I make a pit stop, not by choice, but at the lure of a woman.
the torchy appeal of her nightsong clutches me like the
lonely wail of a blues trumpet.

the law should make me wear a tee-shirt with a bold flashing
warning: stay away – stay far away. it’s my vindictive nature.
I’ve been hurt & left to stitch together the riven pieces, kind
of a Frankenstein of my own resurrection. or maybe it’s the
cold reality that I will never attain the heart of my heart, in the
way that the wolf loves the moon, but remains unrequited.

my despicable philosophy tells me a woman’s flesh was made
to be ravaged, & her heart, to be broken.

a woman is a creature of giving; she was born to offer her sexual
bounty to a man who will love her. when she’s restricted from that
desire, she knows why loneliness was the first thing that God named.

and I’m the bastard who takes advantage of her sacrifice. hell, I’ll
present her with poetry designed to drag her into the steel laces of
my web, till hunter & hunted are no longer identifiable. when my libido
is full, like a beast who has savored its prey, my rogue heart flees like
the scandalous thief in the night, impenetrable as the darkness.

I know it’s tough to be a woman & walk around with a body like that,
when there are guys like me lurking in every shadow…


Written by JohnFeddeler
Published
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